VTS Race #6: the Mile (again)

There are certain events in life where familiarity or experience can help bread a sense of calm. Competing in the mile isn’t one of them. And so it was that on a warm Saturday evening in late July, I found myself again pacing nervously, almost painfully as I waited to be called to the line.

CRACK!

Unlike last time there was no hesitation upon hearing the sound of the gun, rather the sharp noise brought almost instantaneous relief. Bolting clear from the line I immediately found myself out front and for the duration of the event was unaware of the other competitors. As I rounded the first corner and despite strangely heavy legs, I repeatedly told myself to slow down knowing that the initial rush that accompanies the burning off of the excitement and fear would soon be over.

Much like last time, the first 200m went by dizzily fast. I glanced at my watch, 37.5... and again much like last time, I had difficulty finding meaning in the split. The additional 9m at the beginning made the opening leg meaningless.

I heard the crowd as I passed the start, alone, the announcer educating the spectators that if I were to continue this pace I ‘may’ sneak under 5:00. I also heard for the first and last time a single high-pitched voice, “go daddy, go”.

“… 1:15 …”

I rounded the corner again and began my journey down the backstretch for the second time. It was about after 500m that it started... the all too familiar acid strain, my systems beginning to panic, organs shutting down for the duration. My legs started to get the first wave of lactic numbness. I don’t recall much else but a numbed sense of hurting.

“… 2:30 …”

Starting the third lap, I was really feeling it now, a sense of fear and dread knowing that I still had a long way to go. Just before the 1,000m mark I started my kick. Probably nothing noticeable but I didn’t want to slip off the pace. My shoulders now ached.

As I sped down the homestraight, the lactic acid was boiling. I remember the announcer, Paul telling the crowd that I was still on pace for a sub-5:00 mile, an important and hard fought barrier for the mile. Then the bell rang out.

“… 3:45 ...”

I rounded the corner and ran onto the backstretch for the last time. With about 200m remaining I was finally tying up. I was fighting fiercely to maintain form, trying valiantly to lift my ears off my shoulders. I recalled something Ron had yelled during the final lap of my last race and with great effort and determination pumped my arms fiercely. I pumped harder still, trying to concentrate as my headed rocked.

I could see the clock in the distance. Paul had the crowd cheering, as I tried to make sense of the number. I knew it would be close. I was completely numb, a world of pain. I would find out later that I crossed the line with a time of 5:00.5, half a second off my goal. It looks like I’m going to have to wait for until next season to have a crack at this again. Bugger. That said, I didn’t walk away empty handed as I won an adidas watch. Oh, and next time, I’m running in the elite race... although I would’ve come last I can only hope I that by chasing someone’s coattail I might have found the time I needed.

Training: VTS #6: mile, 5:00.5, 3:06/km, 5:00/mi, 1st OA

The Little Man

Since the arrival of our “little man”, life continues... as it always does:
· Our dearest daughter still get’s up at 6:00 a.m. (5:40 this morning) regardless of the time I go to bed, apparently my schedule is of little concern;
· Ally continues to surprise me with her adaptability and calm demeanour; and
· When I stumble down to the shed in a tired stupor only to remember that my bike is at work, i.e. I ran home the day before, crying is okay but I still need to run to work.

In all seriousness, the routine in our household has changed little since Corbin’s birth. I’m not minimizing the arrival of a new child, but I still tend to make dinner, Isla continues to thoroughly enjoy either 8, 10 or 2 books before bed and my lovely wife picks up all the slack.

As for the running, well, although the volume has dropped off I’m thankful for being able to maintain some frequency particularly when it means throwing in a double to help a friend lesson the load on his shoulders.

Earlier this week I booked off work in order to spend a day (our wedding anniversary) with the family. Whilst everyone was sleeping I snuck out the back door and jogged down to the Lochside Track for an impromptu workout. I wanted to squeeze in some faster intervals after warming up with a couple miles of tempo:
· 2xmile: 5:57, 5:55
· 2x400: 1:19, 1:15
· 4x200: 0:35, 0:34, 0:33, 0:33

Although I’d hoped to run the 200’s faster, the difference may lie in the subjective distance (which I need to measure out). Still, not all that bad and with some luck I hope to use this to break the 5’ barrier at the Victoria track Series Race #6 this weekend.

Wish me luck!

Training:
Jul 26: A.M. 1:01:30 with 2x(3’ (1’) + 30”(1’) + 30”) (3’), P.M. hilly 47:02

Jul 27: sluggish 24:09

Jul 28: 57:32 w/ 2xmile (1') + 2x400 (2’) + 4x200 (1’)

Jul 29: day off (scheduled)
Jul 30: easy 25:54 w/ 4xstrides

Each Peach Pear Plum

With the missus away, I’ve just finished playing Mr. Mom which this week means reading Each Peach Pear Plum innumerable times; luckily I’m easily amused. And now, with a steaming cup of Wild Sweet Orange tea nestled up against the keyboard, I can enjoy a rare quiet moment.

Yesterday, after weeks of glorious sunshine I found myself staring at the drops of rain as they ran down my office window. And with an upset stomach to boot.

With 4xmile on the schedule, I had originally thought I might jog up to Vic High but the idea of running multiple laps on a wet, muddy dirt track somehow didn’t seem as appealing. Luckily, with me working in town I decided to take advantage of the old horse oval, jogged over to Beacon Hill, and ran session there. I borrowed the w/o from the corresponding week of my Sacramento build, the plan was to descend the set, 10k to 5k effort (5:36, 5:32, 5:28 & 5:24); the reality wasn’t nearly as smooth.

Unless I check my pacing every 200m, I tend to open this sort of workout too fast. Hell, I open every workout too fast. With this in mind, I made sure to hold back on the first mile and concentrated on settling into a comfortable rhythm (5:34). During that lap, I broke the loop into three segments and I decided to run the last section more aggressively on my second mile. I smiled looking at the time (5:27), but knew that I had just delivered myself a knockout blow if I was to run the session properly. Ouch.

Despite running 2/3’s of the third mile quite strongly, I wasn’t surprised with the result (5:30). I now knew that my last mile was going to be a battle. After shaking out my arms and dodging a few peacocks, I started the last interval content on at least equalling my previous best. The first half went reasonably well but I could feel arms and shoulders tightening up. Rounding the last corner, I turned back into the park only to jump up onto the grass to dodge an unforgiving motorist. Pleasantly, this only fuelled the fire and I was able to squeak out the result I was looking for… not the planned 5:24, but a victory all the same.

The jaunt home was a disaster. It wasn’t until much later that evening that I realized I had just averaged four 5:30 miles, 6.2 km at 17:05 5k pace… not too shabby given last weeks 17:07 performance.

Training:

Monday: day off (scheduled)

Tuesday: 1:28:41 with 4x1600 (2’) 10kP-5kP

Wednesday: easy 38:45

Cedar Hill Golf Course

Although the pain wasn’t instantaneous, thank God for small miracles, the indifference and unresponsiveness in my legs was immediate.

I haven’t run any workouts at Cedar Hill Golf Course (CHGC) in years, and reacquainting myself with a session of tempo miles might not have been the best of ideas. The plan was simple, 4x mile with 1’ recovery. Having not raced in months I’m unsure of my current fitness but aimed (perhaps ambitiously) to hit somewhere between 6:00 – 6:05 mile/pace. Even if you take into account the rolling terrain and the bark mulch footing, I was hopelessly disappointed.

I met Hicham at the start of the upper loop and after a light warm-up we “eased” into the first mile. It was about the 1200m mark that I started to second-guess myself on competing in my first cross country season later this fall. What have I gotten myself into?

6:27, 6:16, 6:29 & 6:23

Hicham was a trooper and completed a fifth mile whereas I, after licking my wounds, decided to limp back home in anticipation of a cold beer.

Training:
Wednesday: easy 38:15
Thursday: 1:19:35 w/ 4x mile tempo (1’)
Friday: day off (unscheduled)

Ignition

“Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us, our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life.” ~ Albert Einstein

On Friday, I enjoyed the luxury of not having to work and seized the opportunity with eager hands. I managed to squeeze in a few additional glorious minutes of sleep, benefited, and that is a relative term, from a light stretch and then drove down to Oak Bay track well before the heavens opened. It was a perfect morning.

The workout was simple, 4xmile at 5k pace, but given my inability to conquer its close relative two weeks back, 3xmile (5:18, 5:27, and 5:24) I was anxious. With my two recent race performances as a guide, I set myself a range of 5:21 to 5:24 to work with. And so after a completely unnecessary second trip to relieve myself, I could delay the inevitable no longer and launched into the workout with nothing but apprehension on my shoulders and the sound of my feet lifting off a damp track to keep me company.

I felt comfortable for the first lap, it passing in what was a brief moment and me gaining a 4” cushion. The middle 800 was uncomfortably comfortable but my strength and speed waned on the last lap leaving me sans cushion and overdrawn with the tailor.

With the first mile behind me, the second and third were better but not as comfortable as I would’ve liked, my form struggling and my effort-level elevated. When during the last mile I split the 800 in 2:43, having mentally gapped on the second lap, I thought I was finished. But then something entirely unexpected happened. Mentally I imagined caving, looking for the easy out, but physically, from a depth not taxed in almost a year my body responded and although I was running faster I felt easier, I had purpose. It’s a tad cliché, but the fire within was lit.

5:23, 5:20, 5:20, 5:20

On a sad note, on Friday evening Ally’s parents dropped by with some heartbreaking news. Her mom, who hasn’t been feeling well of late, unfortunately has drawn the short end of the stick, the days being counted on two hands.

Training:
Thursday: easy undulating 54:43
Friday: 1:13:16 with 4xmile at 5k pace (2’)
Saturday: easy 1:31:43

Do not try this at home

My legs feel… I’m not entirely sure how they feel. And I’m unsure whether my uncertainty is due to mental fatigue or physical. Numb, if I could feel them, yes my legs would feel numb.

I met my group this morning, their enthusiasm always unexpected and refreshing. After a few pleasantries, introductions for two new members, we began to loop our way through Oak Bay and Fairfield, traversing along Brighton and up the 100-stairs to King George Terrace. The entire morning I’d been feeling off and attempted to run at the rear in the hope of suffering alone, it didn’t work. I dropped them off at the store 1h20 later and then headed down to Beacon Hill Park entertaining the idea of beginning my own workout. What was I thinking?

I was to run 6xmile tempo, but as I made my way down I was desperately trying to convince myself why I should even attempt one… this was not going to be fun. I kept the warm-up short and sweet, a combination of heel-kicks and high-knees and then I was off. The first interval felt like utter crap, running with forced strides and no rhythm. I meant to hit 5:50s and was very surprised as I passed the crosswalk in 5:48. Every subsequent interval I told myself this was it, the last one… I clearly don’t take what “I” have to say seriously. This session was all about putting one foot in front of the other and “not” thinking: 5:48, 5:47, 5:49, 5:54, 5:50, 5:51.

Hope everyone has a great weekend!

Training: 2:07:04 with 6xmile tempo (1’)

Where excuses don’t amount to much

Jogging (slowly) home from the track this morning I felt a fraction of the man I once was, dead tired, but yet with a waning grin on my face. With the sun shining, clear, crisp blue skies and nothing but scarce faded leaves to keep me company, the workout today felt like the calm before the storm, day #1 on my road south.

The schedule called for 3x 2-miles and based on last week’s half marathon I decided on a pace time ranging from 11:58 to 12:08. Jogging the once familiar 4-km to the field didn’t do anything to quell my anxiety; I was a young child standing under the classroom doorway on his first day of school. Perhaps it’s the cold evaluating nature of the track; there’s nowhere to hide, and where excuses don’t amount to much. This was my first real test since April, and I was scared shitless.

The first mile was uneventful but with 1200m to go, I felt abandoned, running in no-man’s-land, lacking in both cardiovascular fitness and leg speed I was reliant solely on guts and determination. That said, with the first interval behind me the subsequent two fell into place, each lap a reminder though of the daunting goal I’ve set for myself and the vast amount of work ahead. The times speak for themselves (AHR, MAX).

12:03 (161, 168)
11:59 (160, 167)
12:04 (161, 165)

Despite being content with my accomplishment, my ego took a drubbing when I compared today’s session to the one I completed on March 7 (about 5 weeks out of London), my only consolation being I’m 13 weeks from Phoenix.

11:08 (160, 164)
11:13 (158, 163)
11:05 (161, 166)
11:01 (163, 167)

Training:
Friday: 45:23 with 5x strides (1’)
Saturday: 1:21:32 with 3x 2-miles (2’), AHR 145, MAX 168

Dirty Old Town

“I met my love by the gas works wall, dreamed a dream by the old canal, I kissed my girl by the factory wall, dirty old town, dirty old town…”

The plan:

80’ easy at 6:50 mi/pace (4:15 km)
3x8’ at 5:55 mi/pace
30’ easy at 6:50 mi/pace

The execution (a bit sloppy):

I headed out of town on the Goose and used the kilometer markers to (try &) set my pace. Although the effort felt easy, my HR surprised me as I expected it to be lower:

4:07 (149, 151)
4:06 (145, 152)
4:11 (149, 156)
4:12 (146, 151)
4:01 (144, 150)

Once off the Goose, I looped back towards UVic and down into the Uplands. I felt my pacing was better and concentrated on feeling relaxed. I arrived at the Jack Wallace Memorial Track exactly 1h20 into the run and had no problem starting into the tempos, as the track was empty. My split through the mile on each of the segments is as follows:

5:51 (147, 156)
5:53 (149, 153)
5:51 (149, 158)

My legs felt fine but I was surprised at my breathing, it was more rapid then I would’ve liked (it seems my legs have adapted to the training but my lungs and heart still have work to do). While keeping me company on the track earlier this week, Rumon noticed that a) my shoulders crept up as I became tired and b) when that happened my breathing increased. This is something I’m going to have to pay attention to in the next few weeks.

After the workout, Kirstie Hudson met Rumon and Jim at my place and we answered a few more questions. I’m quite excited to hear how the piece comes together. Best of luck to everyone racing the Bazan Bay 5-k tomorrow!

Training: 2:14:02, with 3x 8’ at MP, AHR 142

Running Scared

I’ve had the luxury of enjoying an average of 9 ½ hours sleep, per day, for the last two days; apparently I needed it (my regular 6 missing the mark).

I woke up feeling rested, although somewhat anxious about the upcoming run. After a quiet morning, involving a leisurely read of the paper, vacuuming, sweeping and laundry, delaying the inevitable had run its course.

It was cool as I stepped outside, 2C, but the sun was shining and only a whisper of breeze. Not being able to make the Galloping Goose or Lochside trails, and fearing the insanity of running innumerable loops on a partially frozen track, I turned left down the street to visit an old friend, Beacon Hill Park.

I planned a progressive tempo run, starting at 6:02 mi/pace and finishing up at 5:48 mi/pace; that was the goal. With the 128-foot Kwakwaka’wakw totem pole looming overhead, I depressed start.

Lacking the constant feedback of the track, and with a notoriously quick first few steps I began conservatively, or so I thought, my legs turning over comfortably and my breathing steady.

The accountant in me was excited to see I’d split the first mile 10” fast. Unfortunately, having earned much experience (the hard way), I knew this sort of funny business at the start of a marathon can be catastrophic. I was ultimately disappointed. I eased back a tad for the second mile but picked up the Fear of God as I split 6:01. How is it possible to be disappointed with something I was aiming to do? I was becoming intimidated now. Instead of easing back further, I unknowingly hastened for fear of clocking a 6:03.

As the next two miles were intended to be at marathon pace (5:55), I can’t begin to express what rattled through my head when I cracked a 5:58. “I’m doomed”, I thought, “I should stop the training now”. With a 3” effort to make up I overcompensated, digging my hole deeper still.

5:52 (156, 162)
6:01 (158, 162)
5:56 (157, 162)
5:58 (157, 162)
5:46 (159, 163)
5:45 (161, 163)
5:34 (162, 165)

Although happier then having run too slow I’m disappointed with my self-discipline. Rather then run scared, next time, my goal is to run confident and controlled.

I had oats for breakfast; my stomach behaved itself; it is continuing to do so.

Training: 1h27’30”, with 7 miles of progressive tempo, AHR 145, MAX 165

Are you going to be a wimp?

Running is a big question mark that's there each and every day. It asks you, “Are you going to be a wimp or are you going to be strong today?”
- Peter Maher, Irish-Canadian Olympian and sub-2:12 marathoner

…I’m weary, my stomach aches and I’d like to get to bed early; today, I think I was a bit of both.

While jogging to Oak Bay my legs felt constricted and lifeless. Doubtless, it had more to do with the power lycra shorts & long tights I was wearing, but when my legs are unresponsive before a track workout it usually means I’m in for a good one. Don’t ask.

As it was +1C (and falling), after taking off my tights and a quick hello to Chris (my cohort for part of the evening), I jumped right into the workout. This could’ve been a mistake on many counts but perhaps most noticeably when I went into the second corner only to discover the entire back stretch covered in a very thin and dastardly layer of ice. A smarter runner would’ve run elsewhere (or worn spikes) but I carried on, destined to decelerate for 150m of every lap.

As expected the legs felt good and if it wasn’t for my stomach the workout would have been first-rate. Instead, I enjoyed a dull ache by about 1000m of the mile, only to have it reoccur passing through 200m of the 800 and unfortunately intensify. Tonight though, unlike similar situations, I don’t think it slowed me, rather fueling some frustrated anger. Bugger. I really have to sort out my nutrition. The times and HR (AHR, MAX) are as follows:

5:39.3, (155, 163), 2:38.8, (158, 165)
5:39.2, (156, 163), 2:40.7, (157, 165)
5:39.5, (157, 162), 2:41.4, (155, 164)
5:39.3, (155, 164), 2:39.1, (156, 164)

The jog home was cruel. With a damp toque and gloves, and a drained body I felt like Luke stumbling out of the snow cave on Hoth… only I didn’t have Obi-Wan Kenobi to guide me on my journey.

Training: 1:30:58, AHR 136, MAX 165, 4x(1600, 90”, 800, 3')

Trials of Miles

… and so it begins. Okay, training for the marathon doesn’t formally start for a week or two but I was laying some solid groundwork today. The forecast was for more snow so my coach had given me a treadmill workout, 4 x 7 ½’ with 75” rest at 5:50 mile pace. That said, given it didn’t snow as much as forecasted and that we enjoyed a relatively warm (5C) afternoon I decided to take to the roads.

Although I thought he was on a mileage week, Rumon volunteered to keep me company and we headed off for Beacon Hill Park (an old, relatively flat, mile horse track in the middle of a park, now converted to a scenic roadway called Circle Drive).

I was supposed to run at half marathon pace but without the constant feedback from a track, I was skeptical of my ability as I always start too quickly (time, AHR, MAX, resting HR at the end of my recovery):

5:31.8 162 167 111
5:44.2 159 166 110
5:42.0 158 164 108
5:43.3 159 166 111
5:43.5 158 165 -

I was surprised at the ease of the first mile but not that I had begun too quickly. Jim had joined Rumon & me just before I took off on the first repeat and I could hear them heckling. Perhaps I should stick to running 200s?

I kept urging myself to slow down but sure enough, as I approached the start/finish line I’d inevitably run too quickly. My only comfort was the effortlessness with which the workout passed. I felt very comfortable and in control, never once straining. I tried to remind myself to relax the shoulders and drop my elbows… light feet.

I was supposed to meet my coach this afternoon to discuss planning but we had to postpone it until tomorrow. I think there is going to be a small change in direction coming down the pike… I’m curious.

Training: 1:13:43 on semi-slick roads, 5xmile at Beacon Hill Park on 7’, AHR 144